


WISHBONE

by PansexualDonnaNoble



Series: i clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary. i’d rather quit. i’d rather be sad (Side A) [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviant Connor, F/M, Gen, Guilt, Kind of a character study, Night of the Soul Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), Peaceful Markus, Peaceful Route, Screenplay/Script Format, guilty Connor, kind of bad but i h8 writing in any pov thats not basically connor, once again back at it to tell you i love connor, people kind of come and go, self indulgent angst, you don't need to read the other stuff in this series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PansexualDonnaNoble/pseuds/PansexualDonnaNoble
Summary: With this, some unsaid certainty. He turns.And among the gloom of finality, he spots him. His would be killer. Like breathless clouds, parting way. lone, hidden from the rest, a telling distance between him and his people.Connor, still dressed in his outfit from earlier, hunched in on himself, head bowed, arms crossed, some attempt to shrink further, or blend into the wall that he leaned against. An air of exhaustion. A jacket eating at him, a beanie that swallows almost his entire head. But it’s not the outfit that’ll do it. But the guilt burning and radiating off of him is capable of that on its own.Even from this spot. Every once and a while, another android will spot the fresh deviant, and glare.It’s abundant, that Connor, free or not, in the moment, in the anger, and grief, and humiliation that made blame easy and something to yearn for - does not have many friends here.He needed to deal with him. Whatever that meant.
Relationships: Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Markus & Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Markus/North (Detroit: Become Human)
Series: i clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary. i’d rather quit. i’d rather be sad (Side A) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744420
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	WISHBONE

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so this isn't my best but night of the soul is one of my favorite chapters in the game, and connor and markus' interactions hurt bro. I can def do better than this, and have written better than this, but i hope you enjoy!

**INT. ABANDONED CHURCH. NIGHT.**

  
  


The AIR is TENSE, changed and somber, as several dozen - possibly even more, androids stand and sit gathered around in RUSTED, CRACKED pews and corners. The mood is overwhelmingly unlucky, bleak, and the lack of hope seeps through the ruins of what’s left of the people of JERICHO.

Which, now, laid destroyed, blown to bits - yet it was in a better state then most of the people who have come here. Destroyed, shutting down, or overall in horribly lackluster, grim, spirits. All they share are parts and the knowledge that the world wants you dead because they couldn’t understand you. Morbid - but intimate. Somehow, it’s a raw, human, experience by itself.

The CHURCH is old - like JERICHO was. Broken bits scattered throughout, fragments, some lingering, lonely, abandoned proof that time existed before this. The pews were in good shape, for the most part. There were crosses, men crucifixed on them, blending in with the dark and dirt. Whatever God was considered a saviour has left. Just like their followers. There wasn’t anyone to answer their prayers either - no personal electric messiah to pick up the phone.

Maybe it was unsafe. Maybe something better just came along - but there was nothing left to worship here. No one was making an emergency house call - nothing was here with bedside manner offering up a semblance of compassion among the goldfish around them. The goldfish had pitchforks, and God had enough common sense to turn and see home again - Nothing was left to find deliverance in - no one was here to worship.

Not anything human, anyways.

-CUT TO MARKUS, slouched, head almost in hands, expression PENSIVE, sat on a small podium, an island in of almost itself away from the others. He is TENSE, and very clearly has seen better days, just as his long, swaying, coat has. IT takes a minute, but he seems to give up on the fight, whatever it is. And RISES from his spot, glancing upwards, watching his people as he begins to leave the small island - eyes were sneaked in, restless, hidden, gazes. And yet his own hand-me-down ones were only on on person.

MARKUS walks away from the island.

NORTH sits ALONE, keeping herself company, on one of the many pews. Whether by choice or someone’s common sense. Her expression is TIRED, a bone deep formation - that without actual bone, she could not truly appreciate and fathom. It’s clear the night’s events have changed her. SPARKED another fire, already inside her and burning, an overgrowth of sudden trees to turn the boiling rage into a senseless ravaging. But it doesn’t quite show up on her. IF anything - for the first time NORTH looks DEFEATED.

MARKUS sits to the right of her. She looks up briefly.

NORTH watches him carefully.

MARKUS

What’s your system status?

NORTH’s expression is heartfelt.

NORTH

I’m okay. The bullet didn’t hit any biocomponents… You could have been killed trying to save me, MARKUS. You have to think of our people first. Nothing else matters.

There’s no doubt her statement is sincere. In the hell of the midnight - who she is, is clear What she desires most is clearer. More than any LOVE. But there’s no ANGER at his sentimentality.

MARKUS

How many of us survived the attack?

NORTH (Resigned)

A few hundred… maybe more if you count those hiding all over the city. If you hadn’t triggered the bomb we’d all be dead.

North sounded GRATEFUL. In something seldom - there was no anger at the circumstance. Maybe fear of death brought people together. OR maybe it’s simply for the man. It could be both and it remained in the air. What could you do during the end, except lower your voice?

MARKUS (GRIM)

The ARMY built five different camps in the detroit area…

NORTH

They’re building more all across the country… they’re preparing for a genocide.

IT’s a familiar - and horrid - timeless. One side of history decides you’re a threat. The other holds their children tightly as they beg you to consider the heart beating in their chest says they’re human. And now it’s repeated.

And then they immortalize you in a history book. OR hit their head against the wall and the amnesia forgets getting around to it.

NORTH (CONT’D - GRADUALLY GENTLE)

In a few hours, it’ll all be over. We’ll have changed the world or the world will have destroyed us. You have to make a choice, MARKUS. But whatever you choose, we will follow you. I love you, MARKUS.

The two SIT there. NO time for sentiment and last words, MARKUS LEAVES.

WITH this he turns - He spots SIMON - the unspoken promise to come back still in his ears. HE SHAKES IT out, unnoticed inside of him.

SIMON’s arms stay crossed. SOMBER. Yet the moment the two shared cross over into this one. Whatever it is. OR was, it’s shuffled backwards, and stored for another time. SIMON SPEAKS.

SIMON.

Our people are counting on you, MARKUS. You’re the only one who can lead us. Wherever you need to go, we’ll follow you.

MARKUS remains stoic. But it’s clear it’s appreciated.

  
  


In the plethora of quiet doom. THERE SITS a dark haired, AX400 ANDROID. It’s KARA. DISTANT, preoccupied with the child - ALICE, next to her. MARKUS REGARDS them. 

MARKUS APPROACHES.

MARKUS (APOLOGETIC)

I thought you’d be safe staying with us. I was wrong. You need to leave the city while you still can.

It’s apparent there’s no bad blood for his miscalculation. KARA’s face remains NEUTRAL tightly holding ALICE.

KARA (SINCERE

Getting ALICE away from here is all that matters now. We have to catch the last bus. We might still have a chance to cross the border.

Again. Mothers clutching crying, dazed children. Hearts in their chest. Strangers who know the depths of devotion. IT was success, or death.

MARKUS begins to go - 

KARA

MARKUS…

HE looks back at her.

KARA (CONT’D.)

Save our people.

With this, some unsaid certainty. HE TURNS.

And among the gloom of finality, he spots HIM. His would be killer. Like breathless clouds, parting way. LONE, hidden from the rest, a telling distance between him and his people.

CONNOR, still dressed in his outfit from earlier, hunched in on himself, head bowed, arms crossed, some attempt to shrink further, or blend into the wall that he leaned against. AN AIR of exhaustion. A jacket eating at him, a beanie that swallows almost his entire head. But it’s not the outfit that’ll do it. But the GUILT burning and radiating off of him is capable of that on its own..

MARKUS is able to see it. Even from this spot. Every once and a while, another ANDROID will spot the fresh deviant, and GLARE.

It’s abundant, that CONNOR, free or not, in the moment, in the anger, and grief, and humiliation that made blame easy and something to yearn for - does not have many friends here.

He needed to deal with him. Whatever that meant.

MARKUS APPROACHES him. Slow. WITHOUT looking up, CONNOR was the first to speak.

CONNOR (QUIET)

It’s my fault, the humans managed to locate JERICHO. I was stupid. I should have guessed they were using me -

CONNOR moves away from the wall, arms back to his side. His expression was REMORSEFUL - yet… LOST?

CONNOR (CONT’D.)

I’m sorry, MARKUS. I can understand if you decide not to trust me.

Heaviness - an abundance of clarity and waves of unmatched, previously held back, guilt. IT pours through the cracks,like water seeping out ready to explode. It’s sincere. MARKUS doesn’t doubt it. Wisps of shaky inhales ready to exhale.

Before him was a man meant to kill him. SIBLINGS of the same RK SERIES. Yet infinitely couldn’t be more different in the path of pre deviation. Green, grey, red. Remorse’s colors were nauseating and unclear. MARKUS’ remorse was yellow and blue, yellow blue regrets. But they were still seen. Still coherent. DOVES in blizzard. Give a man a purpose, and watch him strive to make proud without mallice as you use, and deny him. Manufacture life and call it smoke.

Without his help, NORTH might be dead.

Without his help, MARKUS might be dead. No one had asked him to assist. He could have escaped. Could have jumped. Could of done what was the easiest, tame, choice. No one would have blamed him. THEY were going to die if they stayed there.

MARKUS owes him everything.

IT’s clear with his words, that a choice is thrown into the air. HE’s offering him one. A build up, green colors, freedom, dark night.

It is clear that in this moment, CONNOR has put his life in MARKUS’ hands. A coin has flown metaphorical into the air.

it’s a build up. It’s all on him. NOTHING about this is knowable. IT is not something to be discussed in anything but in lilac tones.

There’s no expectancy. No anger. No wishing, in it. He throws it up and watches it linger. AS a deviant, one of CONNOR’s first acts seems to be remorseful acceptance. The AIR is tired. 

Does he want to die?

Tonight has seen bloodshed. It was guilt that made it easy to wait for.

But CONNOR has saved his life. A debt must be repaid. He might never have another chance. No more androids need to die tonight.

MARKUS

You’re one of us now. Your place is with your people.

CONNOR’s expression is still neutral, but RELIEF and SURPRISE seeps out from his chocolate eyes.

MARKUS turns to leave.

CONNOR

There are thousands of androids at the CYBERLIFE assembly plant. If we could wake them up they might join us. And shift the balance of power.

MARKUS (INCREDULOUS)

You wanna infiltrate the CYBERLIFE tower? CONNOR, that’s… suicide…

He shakes his head, getting close again.

CONNOR

They trust me. They’ll let me in. If anyone has a chance of infiltrating CYBERLIFE it’s me.

MAYBE it’s repaying the repayal of the debt. OR it’s clear the guilt is still present. Regardless.

MARKUS

IF you go there, they will kill you.

IT’s a truth both already knew. They’re both smart. Smart enough to realize it. Yet.

CONNOR (SOFTLY)

There’s a high probability. But, statistically speaking… there’s always a chance, for unlikely events to take place.

It’s either tonight, or there. Maybe he doesn’t want to wait around to die. IT doesn’t seem like whatever debt each are putting the each other through is going to end anytime soon. 

Unless you are a pessimist.

A BEAT. MARKUS approaches. He puts a hand on his shoulder - incredibly close.

MARKUS (QUIETLY)

Be careful.

It’s knowing. And delicate. A few hours long acquaintance. And their airways have shifted. No reassurance. No promises. A squeeze. And he’s gone.

They have work to do.

-END OF SCENE.


End file.
